


Welcome Infamy

by Rosage



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 15:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: Portia’s first meeting with Nazali gives her déjà vu.





	Welcome Infamy

Portia could unlock the doors to the countess's chambers blindfolded, but today she fumbles. She's never let anyone else in; everything in this room is her responsibility, from watering the ferns to making sure nobody touches Nadia.

She'll have to break that rule. As soon as she learned the visiting doctor was Nadia's sister, she bypassed other levels of approval to bring them here. If they can't help Nadia, who can?

The room doesn't faze Nazali with its silk cushions, its symmetrical pastel designs, and the marble floors Portia has made sparkle. Not even the sight of Nadia lying in bed, unreactive to Portia pulling back the curtains, changes Nazali's expression. Their eyes never leave their sister as they unpack their medical kit.

Portia hovers, wringing her sash. Without looking at her, Nazali says, "Would you mind opening some windows? Stale air never did a body good." Grateful for the task, Portia rushes to it. The trill of birdsong reaches her, though when she peeks, it's clear it hasn't reached Nadia.

After Portia has fetched things and busied herself with dusting clean surfaces, Nazali starts packing up. Portia all but teleports to their side. "Well? How is she?"

"Odd case, this one. She seems stable, but there's not much I can do."

Portia deflates. Nadia has been asleep for two years; of course she wouldn't wake up just because her sibling waltzed in.

"If it's not a problem, I'll stick around for a few days to monitor her," Nazali says.

"Of course, Your Highness. I'll have a guest room set up." Ordinarily, Portia would show them to a room and rush to her next task, but she doesn't want to close the curtains on hope just yet. "Um, can I ask how you knew to come?"

"Our sister Nahara wrote to me about her condition. I had to see for myself if it had changed."

"Nahara? As in the super fit monk?" Nazali's amusement only worsens Portia's blush when it hits her. "Oh my god, that means she was a princess, too.”

"Don't worry. If you didn't treat Hara like a princess, it's because she didn't want you to. The same goes for me, by the by. I find I'm more likely to cause offense than receive it." Something in Nazali's grin unearths an old, deep well of exasperation. Portia shakes herself. _Even if I'm supposed to treat them like anyone else, they're still a stranger_.

While they discuss the situation, Nazali asks Portia to send word if Nadia's condition changes. Portia jumps to agree before remembering she can't write. Just as she’s sure she's out of uses, Nazali offers to teach her.

"I'm sure you have more important things to do," Portia says.

"More important than getting updates on my sister's health? It's no trouble. Teaching this kind of thing brings back memories."

It doesn't take much convincing for Portia to pounce on the chance to learn, not to mention help a family keep in touch. Besides, spending months getting one letter deciphered isn't an experience she wants to repeat.

Nazali sets them both up at the desk—the _countess's_ desk, which Portia hesitates to sit at, though Nazali's presence justifies it. While Portia watches, Nazali writes out an alphabet foreign to the one in Lilinka's records. _That doesn't matter right now,_ Portia tells herself, even if she can't help her disappointment. She copies it while Nazali goes over each letter.

She makes slow and careful movements even as her jaw works overtime asking questions. Still, attending to the lesson proves difficult. The open window invites breezes, and every time the curtains around Nadia's bed shift, Portia does a double take like Nadia herself is stretching.

"I just can't take it," Portia says, throwing up a hand. Ink splatters on the desk, and she hurries to clean it, thanking her stars it didn't get in the carpet.

"Nobody learns in one sitting."

"It's not that. It's just—milady's just lying there while I copy A's."

"Don't worry. She already knows that one."

Portia's grip on the rag tightens. "How can you joke at a time like this? Your sibling could _die_!"

"And my outbursts would prevent that?"

Heat rushes to Portia's cheeks at the thought of her own nights tossing and turning. "That's a terrible thing to say. Don't you care about her?"

"Of course I do. Coming home to my family makes adventuring worth it. Not to mention how scandalized some of them used to get when I shared my tales with little Dia." As they look at Portia, their grin softens. "I promise to do everything in my power to help her. That's why I need to focus, and I'll need you to, too. If you have to let something out first, I understand."

Under Nazali's patience gaze, she feels like a child. She bites her lip. "How do you stay so calm?"

"I've seen a lot of things in my time. You can't spend too long dwelling on any of them, if you want to move forward. Otherwise, I'd be lost on the battlefields of Tirivata."

"Tirivata? Wait, you're _the_ Dr. Satrinava?"

"Depends. Is this singular Dr. Satrinava famous or infamous?" The arch of their eyebrow removes all doubt. Portia doesn't know whether to shout or hug them, or even how to avoid bursting into tears. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Nadia, lying prone.

_I need to focus_.

She forces a smile. "Depends which side you're on. Don't worry, I just like a good war story," she says. While she returns to copying the letters,  Nazali studies her with a mind that’s done a thousand examinations. It makes Portia sweat the moment Nazali speaks up.

"I beg your pardon, I must have missed your family name."

"Oh, um, I'm an orphan,” Portia says.

"I see. Forgive me, then."

Portia's F's come out backwards, and her G's loop back into themselves. She doesn't know how to explain, how to ask the questions circling in her mind. How to be unflappable enough to help her family, or at least, someone else's.

To her relief, Nazali covers the inkwell. "I think that's enough effort before dinner, don't you?" they say.

Portia gathers up her papers. "I'll see about that guest room. And um, Dr. Satrinava? Please don't tell anyone about this." She gestures to the desk she had no right to use, unsure how to reference the rest.

"I won’t. Life's more interesting with secrets."

"Thanks,” Portia says, smiling for real this time. “For everything."

They squeeze her shoulder with a familiar weight that almost makes her choke up. "I hope you find what you're looking for," they say, and like a raven in the shadows, they're gone.


End file.
